Masks Reversed
by DJ LAZA
Summary: Christine returns to the Phantom to Raoul's dismay... Story Complete. Please R
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I Do not own any of the rights to the original characters of Phantom of the Opera. They are the property of Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber

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Raoul rowed the small boat steadily through the murky waters underneath the flame-engulfed opera house. He and his love were finally going to live safely and happily ever after without anymore of the Phantom's nonsense. Christine, her hand grasping Raoul's shoulder, bit her lip wondering what was to become of her abandoned tutor. Even after all he had put her through, she still felt incredible sympathy for the poor creature.

The boat began to rub up against the dry land and Raoul stopped rowing. He threw the paddle away carelessly, jumped from the vessel and onto the solid ground. He put out a hand for Christine to take. She took his outreached hand and manoeuvred herself from the boat. She turned her head around once more to glance back to the dark shaft of water that led down to the Phantom's secret dwellings.

Raoul squeezed her hand. "Come, we must leave quickly. The fire's going to burn through soon."

Christine jerked her head away and looked back to Raoul longingly. She nodded and they began up the long stairway that led back to the opera house. They only hoped that the fire had not yet moved to where they were headed.

As they mounted the final steps and headed out into the opera house, the temperature change hit them like a brick wall. Raoul pulled on Christine's arm and they began running for the exit. Christine looked up as she ran, observing the ceiling. Flames peeked out from cracks in the tile and began growing and spreading, setting the rest of the opera on fire as well.

They ran through the doors just as the ceiling flames began dropping down onto the floor and setting the rest on fire.

Outside there was tons of commotion. Screaming, crying and yelling could be heard from all over. Crowds had gathered at a distance, watching the fire eat away at the glorious architecture as though it were some kind of entertainment for them.

Raoul looked along the road at the lineup of parked coaches, trying to see if his was there or not. Suddenly he spotted it.

"There's the coach!" He yelled and looked at Christine.

Christine was watching the fire, mesmerized. Raoul grabbed her arm, dragged her away from her perception of the current disaster. He pulled her all the way to the coach.

"Vicomte!" The coach operator exclaimed, seeing Raoul approaching with Christine.

Raoul helped Christine into the carriage, then went to around the driver.

"Vicomte, you made it out alive! I thought I'd never see you again."

"I'd feared that myself, as well. But I must have been lucky because I'm talking to you right now, am I not?"

Raoul and the driver shared a laugh, then the driver mounted the front of the coach and Raoul headed to the carriage. He climbed aboard and sat next to Christine, who had her head in her hands and looked to be in utter confusion.

Raoul placed a hand on her shoulder. "Christine, what's wrong? You're okay now. We're leaving and never coming back. There's nothing to worry about."

Christine raised her eyes to Raoul's and shook her head. "I think I made a big mistake," She said, her voice filled with tears.

"What? A mistake? What do you mean?"

All of a sudden Christine jumped from the carriage and ran in the direction of the burning opera house.

Raoul's eyes bulged from his head. He couldn't believe what had just happened. "Christine!" He shouted, watching her receding figure head towards the large building. He saw her go through the entrance and his heart skipped a beat. He jumped from the carriage as well and began after her.

"Vicomte?" The carriage operator asked, confused.


	2. Chapter 2

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Christine struggled between the flames, taking caution to try to not burn herself. The temperature felt to her like it had doubled in the time that she had been there just minutes before. And it had already been intolerable then. Sweat rolled down her forehead and she wiped it away.

She reached the stairwell and made her way down. The further she went, the less fire there was and the temperature seemed to diminish.

When she got to the end she saw the small boat with the paddle flung down on the ground just as they had left it. She got inside the boat, grabbed the paddle and began rowing down the murky waters.

Raoul entered the building, saw the flames and his heart began to beat faster. He suddenly realized that he had no idea where Christine could've gone. She could've went any way and he would never know. He decided he had a hunch where to start, though.

He began down the stairwell and was halfway down when the floor came away from under his feet. He plummeted down into dark waters and struggled to the top to catch some air. He saw the grate coming down on him and growled. He had went through this torture already. Once was enough! He took in a big breath of air and swam down to turn the control wheel.

Christine had almost reached the Phantom's lair when she saw people beginning to arrive down below, searching around. Searching. They were most likely search parties for the Phantom. They probably wanted to punish him for what he had done to the opera house.

She quickened her rowing and touched land with the boat. She jumped out and ran up to the large pipe organ, looking all around for the Phantom. A deep knot began to form in her stomach when she could not find him and saw the search parties growing even closer.

He was not there. Gone. She looked off to the side, saw an odd goblet lying on the ground. Christine walked to it, picked it up. She studied it carefully for a moment, then looked up from it to notice some broken mirrors standing in front of her. They were odd as well.

She saw a cloth covering over one of the mirrors and parted it away only to find that it was not a mirror but an opening leading somewhere else. She squeezed the goblet between her fingers and gulped, then stepped through the opening and disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

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She walked through a strange mirrored area which frightened her and made her confused. It was hard to see where she was going, whether she was walking into mirrors or not. After the mirrored section ended, the narrow path widened and led into a room adorned with red decoration and an old player piano in the corner.

She walked into the room slowly, still gripping onto the goblet as though it were protecting her in some way. The walls were painted red, the carpeting was red shag, the ceiling was tiled red, the only pieces of furniture, an old armchair and a small Ottoman, were red velvet. The only item which did not have the ruby tincture was the piano.

Christine walked over to the piano and seated herself on the bench. She noticed a red vase atop the piano. Inside the vase sat a dozen roses. She turned her head and looked at the wall behind the piano. On the floor in the corner, she was slightly disturbed to see quite a few paint canvasses. Some lay down on the floor, others were propped up against the wall. Some were completed paintings, others were in the process of being painted. All shared the same theme: Christine.

A small shiver ran down her back and she looked away from the chilling paintings. As she turned around, she saw the Phantom standing beside her. She gasped, almost fell from the bench. She wondered where he had come from, then saw a doorway on the other side of the room.

Christine looked up at the Phantom.

"Why are you here?" He asked, angrily. Christine squeezed onto the goblet, nervously. "Shouldn't you be off with that man? That man who loves you? That man who cherishes you? You've toyed with me one time too many. A heart can only take so much. Why are you here?"

"I was blind, I fear to say. I have learned my wrongful ways. I put you out of my head. But I think of you more instead." She raised from the bench and stood in front of him."The Phantom of the opera is there. Inside my mind."

The Phantom stared at Christine with a solid look. At once, he turned his head away from her and began to pace towards the doorway.

He stopped and turned back to Christine. "You tell me this today. Tomorrow will you feel the same? Game playing is overdue. How can I believe you?"

Christine approached the Phantom and stood in his way so he could pace no further. She raised a delicate hand to caress his disfigured visage and let it linger for a moment before removing it with haste. Then she placed her head on his shoulder and embraced the creature, pulling his arms around her to envelope herself in his body.

In almost a whisper, "Angel of Music please forgive me. Foolish was I, I abandoned my tutor. Clouds of disorder hindered my judgement. But now I am able to see clearly."

At first, the Phantom was alarmed by Christine making contact with he, the beast. But he could not resist feeling the warmth of his one and only true love against him. He was defenseless when it came to Christine.

He held her close and rubbed the normal side of his face against hers. After a moment of hesitation, a weak smile came over his face. "Christine... Christine... I cannot lie in the presence of beloved Christine. I... had waited so long to hear... the confession you had just reared."

A smile touched the lips of Miss Daae as well.

"Christine... you are sincerely brave enough to behold this face?"

Christine pulled away and looked him in the eye. "Never more have I seen such radiance," she said factually.

A tear came to the Phantom's eye. He ran his fingers through Christine's hair, cherishing every bit of her presence.

"The Phantom of the opera is there. Inside my mind,"(Andrew Lloyd Webber) Christine sang, feeling the joy of being with her tutor once more.

The Phantom placed a finger over Christine's tender mouth, hushing her. "Please. Call me Erik. I don't feel right with letting someone so graceful refer to me with such a frightful appellation."

Christine smiled. "Erik. What a lovely name," she remarked.

The Phantom gasped at her, unable to believe she could say such a thing. "No one's ever said that before."

"No one ever gave you a chance before," Christine replied, saddened by the horrifying past this man had to carry around with him until the end. She knew she certainly could not even bear half of the torment this poor soul had been through. All because of a silly disfigurement. People were so crude. True beauty lay in the mind and the heart. Physical appearances meant nothing. If only the world shared her views! Unfortunately it was impossible to inflict such views upon everyone.

"Christine. I love you," The Phantom said, knowing it perhaps was too bold. But he felt that his dearest was truly connecting with him right now. They were forming a bond at that moment that was like no other.

Christine was not shocked by the Phantom's proclaim of love, actually expected it of him. Yet she did not feel the same for him. At least not at the moment. Therefore, she did not want to hurt Erik anymore than he had been hurt in his life and tell him something that was a lie. She simply smiled at him. "Erik, you are swee--"

She was cut off by flames peeking out through newly formed cracks in the ceiling just as she had observed in the hall leading to the exit of the opera house.

"Oh my goodness, Erik!" She screamed, pointing to the flames above him.

He turned his head up to the ceiling to see the flames as well. The room was beginning to grow hot and the flames were coming down further.

"I thought your lair was supposed to be flame resistant!"

"I thought so too," Erik said grimly. He grabbed Christine by the arm and pulled her forward, the goblet in her hand flying out, hitting the wall and falling down on the floor. Erik whisked her away through the mysterious doorway opposite the piano. She shrieked, alarmed at what was happening. The doorway did not lead into another room, but to a ledge overlooking the murky waters beneath the opera house in the shaft that led down to the Phantom's exterior lair.

Fearful that she would fall from the ledge, she clung onto Erik, breathing heavily and whimpering. The ledge was only a small rectangle of area and there was nowhere else to go except plummet down into the shallow stream. They had only stood upon the ledge for a small moment before Erik suddenly reached upwards with one hand and grabbed a rope that had been unseen to Christine when they had went out onto the ledge.

Erik gripped Christine tightly around the waist with one hand and gripped the rope tightly with the other.

"Erik! What are you--" Christine began, but she was cut off when Erik leapt from the ledge. Christine began screaming, realizing that this might be the end for both of them. She continued to scream until she felt a sharp jerk upwards and saw that they had swung by the rope to another ledge. This ledge was lower that the previous, less of a serious drop to the foundation.

She felt Erik tighten his grip around her waist and then they were swinging again by the rope back to the opposite side of the wall once more. She was so nervous and frightened that she could not bear to look at the moving ground beneath her any more. She buried her face in Erik's shoulder and began to weep, hoping this would all be over soon.

They reached an even lower ledge and this time Erik let go of the rope. The rope dangled in its place, lifelessly, and Erik turned to the wall behind the ledge. There was a small protrusion on the bricks of the wall. One could not observe it unless they were standing on the ledge and Erik knew that no one had ever occupied the ledge before except himself.

He reached out, with the hand that had once held the rope, to the protrusion and pulled on it. The bricks had been fakes in a small area and like a cabinet, the compartment opened to reveal a dark shaft in the side of the building.

Erik took Christine's face in his hand and lifted it from his shoulder. He held her head upright and looked at her sternly. "You have to go through," He instructed, pointing at the opened compartment.

Christine sniffed, wiped her tears away and looked at the Phantom a moment before nodding and then kneeling into the compartment. She began to crawl, unaware of where she was going or where she even was, but she held a certain trust in the man, the Phantom of the Opera, and knew he never would hurt her-- Intentionally.

Erik kneeled into the compartment after her, shut the door behind him and crawled following Christine.

Christine continued crawling, wishing it would just be over soon. "In the darkness where am I? In the darkness I ask why? Frightening can be the darkness of life. Terror stalks until you shriek and cry. In the darkness I ask you why?"

"The darkness of life can be fulfilling, you'll see. The darkness of life is what I believe. In the darkness you ask why? The answer, my dear, is deep inside. But it is up to you... to find its domicile."

A shiver ran down Christine's back. She looked upwards and saw a small light burning in the distance. She would ask why no more, the darkness had been evaded by a glowing trespasser.

The Phantom saw the light as well and, having been through this cutout before, knew exactly where they were at the moment. "Just a little further," He instructed.

Christine crawled towards the light, wishing to bask in its luminescence, wishing for it to grow stronger, shroud the darkness and illuminate the unknown, cast her fears aside by shining them away with brightness.

The Phantom suddenly reached out his hand in front of her and began to push, what seemed to be to Christine, an invisible gateway. A door actually happened to be real where he was pushing and it slid open slowly under Erik's pressure, revealing a flame-filled room. Christine climbed down from the opening, cautious to the surrounding flames, the Phantom exited the opening following her removal. He took her hand in his and pulled her forth. "Come," he said.

They ran to the end of the flaming room until they reached the wall, with nowhere left to go. Christine wondered what was next as Erik reached up and pushed on one of the bricks in the wall. He tightened his grip on her hand and suddenly, the floor under their feet began revolving and they disappeared into the depths of the wall. The revolving secret passage ended in an opposite room. It seemed to Christine as though they were going around and around in circles and would never be free of the flaming opera house.

Tears began to pour down her face. "Erik... do you know what you're doing?" She asked, having gained some doubt in his knowledge of the underground level of the opera house.

The Phantom cast her a displeased glance before saying, "I know what I'm doing in this opera house as much as you knew what you were doing when you returned to me moments ago."

Christine gaped at Erik and wiped away some tears.

As much as he would have liked to comfort her and tell her it was alright, he knew that this was not the time nor place to do so. "We haven't time for this," He continued, pulling her along. They reached the next wall, Erik bent down and removed a grate from its position. He tossed it aside and gestured for Christine to go ahead through another secret wall tunnel.

She did as was ordered and kneeled down into the shaft, crawling forth as she had in the previous opening. The Phantom followed behind, watching ahead of Christine for the sign of the tunnel's conclusion.

Christine noted in the distance several horizontal lines which seemed to glow brightly. They were much brighter than the small light in the previous opening and it made her feel more safe to see a grander light.

She reached the horizontal light lines at the end and wondered what would be on the other side. Erik pushed the lines out of the way and they fell right off and disappeared below, revealing the other side of the tunnel. Christine gasped, turned away from the horrid sight and threw her arms around Erik for consolation.

There was no room on the other side of the exit, only a fall of a great length to the grounds of outside the opera house.

"Please don't make me jump. Please don't make me jump," Christine repeated over and over again to Erik, pressing her face into his chest.

Erik parted her hair away from her face and looked at her sympathetically. "There's no need to shed tears on such a beautiful face. Of course we will not jump. Even _I_ am not _that_ mad," He assured, taking out a noose from his back pocket in one hand.

Christine pulled away from him nervously, speculating on what he intended to use the noose for.

He chuckled, seeing her reaction to the noose. "You're too precious, my dear," he said, still chuckling. He moved past her and leaned out of the opening that with one false move would plummet below. As much as he hated the light of day, he knew they had to abandon his beloved opera house for good. He attached the noose to a protrusion on the side of the building, then turned back to Christine, took her in his arms, and jumped out of the tunnel.

She shrieked as they began falling, then they were stopped by the Phantom catching onto the rope he had attached. He swung them off to the side and they landed quite a few feet from their starting place. He reached up, grabbed onto the rope and began pulling. It snapped off of its holding and returned to his hand.

Erik attached the rope on another wall protrusion and they swung once more, almost to the ground they were, when their swinging was halted by the flames of the opera house seeping out through the walls and hindering their further descend.

There were only some feet left, anyway. Erik turned to Christine and touched his lips upon hers, feeling that if it were the end they'd at least have enjoyed their last living moments.

Abruptly ending the passion, flames pushed out of the wall, almost burning the two. Erik held onto Christine tight, then jumped from the building and onto the ground. They rolled onto a patch of grass and lay motionless for a moment, before Christine sat up and noticed the fiery opera house. She could not believe that they had, only moments ago, been inside the inferno and had come out alive.

Erik, who had broken Christine's fall, sat up after her, feeling pain soar through his body. He blinked several times in the light of day, surveying what was the outside. He didn't like it one bit. Everything was too happy, too cheery, too bright, too... not dark. He looked up at the opera house and sighed. Everything was gone now.

Erik's gazed moved from the ablaze opera house to the members who were trying to control the fire around the opera house. People. He hated people.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the only mask he had been able to salvage before leaving all of his possessions behind in the fire. After studying it for a moment, he slipped it on and felt less exposed.

Christine turned around to look at the Phantom, but saw that Don Juan Triumphant had returned. He had slipped on the mask while she had been looking at the fire. "I thought you had abandoned the facade."

"One never abandons a facade," Erik replied, gazing up at the inferno. "One only thinks that they have. In the end it is only the man who realizes that he will never be free from his facade who is totally liberated."

Christine nodded, understanding completely. "Erik... you've lost all of your things. It's such a shame."

"Items can be replaced." He caressed Christine's face softly with his hand. "Others can not."

She smiled under his touch and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she was visited with an unpleasant image; groups of people were moving towards them, wishing to hurt the Phantom of the Opera.

A chant could be heard, "He's there! The Phantom of the Opera! He's to blame for the demise of our dear opera! Murder the Phantom of the Opera! Blood from the Phantom of the Opera!"


	4. Chapter 4

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Erik heard the chant, grabbed Christine and began running.

"Where are we going?" Christine asked, frantically.

"I'll decide that later."

They ran through the streets of Paris, the few people around who were not watching the opera fire seeing them run by wondering what was going on, then realizing that they had just witnessed the loathsome Phantom of the Opera who was responsible for the destruction of their beloved opera.

People yelled out in the streets, frightened of the terrible criminal. Shouts could be heard from all around.

"Chase that beast!"

"Oh, he's horrible! Horrible!"

"Don't let him get away!"

"He's disgusting!"

Erik felt a lump in his throat, hearing all that the people had said about him. He pulled Christine off to the right to run on the next street. They continued to run, seeing less and less people as they went further and further. The Phantom was heading for the frozen lake.

They reached the lake and the Phantom pulled her towards a small cabin on the edge of the frozen water. It was a fishing cabin. Erik pulled the door of the cabin open, only to find that the cabin was already occupied by a man sitting on a wooden crate, holding a fishing rod and slumped down ice fishing.

Erik growled and pulled out a noose from his back pocket. He proceeded to loop it around the man's throat and tighten it. The man screamed helplessly, as did Christine, then Erik, with one swift motion, threw the man out of the cabin and shut the door on both he and Christine, leaving them to be alone.

"Alone, my dear, at last," The Phantom said with joy, approaching his Christine. They shared another desirable kiss, then stood, looking at one another.

"We can't stay here forever, you know..." Christine said, somewhat killing the moment-- If that _was_ a moment.

The Phantom let out a long exasperated sigh. "I know."

"They're after you. They're hunting you down. You must hide once again."

"Yes. Hiding. Forever hiding. My whole life has been one big game of hide and go seek and quite frankly... I've grown weary of concealing. Why can't I just be normal? Why? Why?" Erik asked, emotionally distraught.

"You _are_ normal. It is everyone else who is not. The corruption in their minds makes me sick to my stomach."

"How did I ever come to receive someone as tender as you? I don't deserve to even stand in your presence right now."

Christine's cheeks began to flush. She smiled at her tutor.

"The Angel in Hell... blessed with one thing. A girl is the blessing... compassionate, loving. A face I may not retain, but she makes up for everything. All of the disregard."

Christine smiled, but quite honestly she was freezing in the ice fishing cabin. Her body began to shake and quiver, freeze and shiver.

Erik saw her discomfort and removed his cape. He draped it over her shoulders to keep her safe from the cold. Christine offered him another smile, then turned her head to the ground, ashamed at what she was about to ask.

"Do you think Raoul is okay?"


	5. Chapter 5

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As Raoul had freed himself from the underwater entrapment he had fallen into once more while going after Christine, the ceiling began to come down on him in burning pieces. He shouted as he felt himself become aflame, and ran all the way back up the stairwell, forgetting of Christine for the moment. Christine had already found the Phantom at that point and would not be returning to Raoul anytime soon.

Fire workers who were searching the front of the building for any left over people trapped in the blaze saw Raoul reach the top of the stairwell and run out through the hall and collapse onto the floor in front of the exit.

Two workers helped him up as the others continued at their post, still searching for any sign of inhabitance. Raoul was unconscious in their grip and they transported him outside so that they could work on reviving him.

They set him down on the ground near the medical carriage and saw to his wounds. A crowd began gathering around him, wondering what had become of the Vicomte.

When Raoul regained consciousness and woke up, he found himself lying in the back of the medical carriage. He remembered faintly the events that had occurred, but ran up some blanks in certain areas.

Raoul lifted an arm up and felt unbelievable pain. He saw that his arm had been bandaged thickly with white medical wrapping. He thought it strange, nevertheless, nothing really big. As he tried to sit up, he felt the incredible pain again. It surged through his body, making him ache all over in such a way that he wanted to scream, but held it in.

There was a small mirror on the wall of the carriage. He moved his head so that he was directly in front of it. When he viewed his reflection in the small mirror, this time he did scream.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Dear God!" He screamed so loud that the entire crowd, who were chatting amongst themselves quite loudly, could hear him perfectly from within the medical carriage.

The two fire workers who had pulled him from the opera house and a doctor came to him to see what all the commotion was about. They realized that he had looked in the mirror and now they had to explain.

Tears began to flow from Raoul's eyes. "What's wrong with me?" He asked, looking at the fire workers.

The fire workers looked to the doctor and the doctor cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, Vicomte... we are sorry to say that while you were in the burning opera house your face was burned dramatically beyond repair. We are so, so sorry."

Raoul sniffed and cried more. "I... I'm a monster."

The doctor gulped and looked to the fire workers. They simply shrugged at him. "Uhh, well, it will heal soon and certainly look less severe in some time. Of course... it will never _fully_ heal."

"Oh, God, no," Raoul bawled, unable to even look at the doctor and fire workers now. He felt so inferior. Unworthy of being in their presence. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide there forever.

A revelation then hit him and his tears stopped; now he knew how the Phantom always felt. How horrible it must be for that man! To live like that your whole life! But... now he had to live the rest of his life disfigured as well. And... it had been that horrid Phantom who had caused the fire which had burned his face so unjustly in the first place.

He looked up and saw that the doctor and fire workers had left him. He made a fist with his unbandaged hand and banged it down on the carriage bench. This meant...

"Revenge," Raoul said coldly with slitted eyes. "I know you're out there somewhere, Phantom. Out there with Christine. And when I find you..." He began laughing to himself quietly. Then his laughter began to rise and before he knew it, he was laughing maniacally like there was no tomorrow.

"The Phantom of the Opera will pay! For taking my face away!"


	6. Chapter 6

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"Do I think _Raoul_ is okay?" The Phantom repeated, wincing as he pronounced the detested man's name. He regretted ever even letting it touch his lips.

"Yes. Do you think he's handling it well? Do you think he's safe? I think he went in after me. Perhaps he's hurt? I could never live myself knowing that it was because of I that he was no longer living. Do you think any of these could be a possibility?" Christine asked, drawing in a shameful breath of air after finishing. She didn't want to burden the Phantom with such questions, but since there was no one else to ask, she needed to.

Erik pursed his lips together, trying to find a reasonable answer for her questions that would not make her perceive him as an uncaring savage. He would not at all mind learning that the little pretty boy had lost his life in the burning rage of the opera house, but for Christine's sake dared not to reveal such a thought to her. He'd say anything to make her happy and keep her that way.

Finally he answered, "_Raoul _is no fool. I would hardly think that he'd be defenseless in the fire. He's probably alive and well somewhere. Yes. Alive... and well... and...

_And the little bugger's looking to find you and I so he can kill me and have you all to himself_, Erik thought to himself.

"and _Raoul_ is perfectly safe from all harm."

_That is, safe from all harm until I get a hold of him_, he thought.

Christine pulled the cape closer to her body and smiled brightly at Erik. After all the quarrels Erik had had with Raoul he'd finally put them behind. She was proud of Erik, knowing it was hard to do something like that. It took a big man to do so.

She reached an arm out from under the cape and placed her hand on Erik's masked face. "I hope you're right," she said softly. "I really hope you are." Her hand stroked the side of his face, then descended slowly, moving along his chin, then onto his throat and down the neck, then along his chest and down until she reached his waist.

Her hand lingered there and she raised her eyes up to his, innocently. He stared down at her with a look so powerful it sent a tremble throughout her entire body. In that moment, she pulled herself to him, eliminating all space between, and embracing him fiercely. She needed the comfort of a man. Desperately. She could not bear to think of anything unfortunate happening to her dear childhood friend.

The Phantom held her close, a hand moving up to grasp onto her shoulder. Both breathed deeply, the fog of exhalation visible in the cold winter air. Erik lifted his hand from Christine's shoulder and parted her hair away, then as he had parted the hair, began parting the cape away slowly. He continued parting, now parting the delicate cloth of her dress, and exposing the milky white complexion of a fragile shoulder.

He tentatively ran his hand along her smooth skin, admiring its soft texture. He wanted to be closer to it, wanted to explore it further. He removed his mask, tossed it aside, bent his head and caressed her bared skin with the undamaged side of his face. A warm sensation ran through his body.

Christine wore a smile, allowing Erik to explore the features she held, inviting him to do so freely. After finding out how she felt against his hand and face, Erik wondered what her silky skin would feel like against his lips. There was no hesitation when he closed his lips around her skin, sliding them around, testing and experimenting, observing how the surface of his lips and her shoulder differed so greatly in texture, yet when were united made each one of them feel a certain tingle within that could not be explained using words.

He began repeating his testing process over and over, trying different areas, different levels of application. His lips moved all along her bared flesh, back and forth, up and down. Without even realizing, he began parting the opposite shoulder of Christine's dress from its resting spot as well. But in not as gentle of a way as he had done previously. He tore at the material, lustfully, with a sharp tug and a piece came off in his hand. He let it go and it fluttered to the floor, neither one of them really noticing or caring. His cape, which had only been draped across her shoulders, now without resting spot fell to the floor in a black heap.

Christine closed her eyes, letting Erik work his way about her. Her hand cradled the back of his head and she gently stroked some fingers through his thinning hair. Her dress hung away from her shoulders loosely just above her breast, her smooth skin divulged. Erik's exploration began wandering to parts previously unexplored as of yet, his lips moving down her chest and roaming to the point where her dress lay. His lips then slid under the beginning point of the dress, his nose against this more sensitive skin tickling her.

She giggled and his hand smoothed along the fold in her back as he continued to cover every inch of her with his lips. Christine let out a long pleasurable sigh and a whisper. "Oh... Raoul..." She murmured in her gratification.

Erik pulled himself away from Christine and looked at her, appalled. How could she have dared to speak that man's name while they had been so intimate?

Christine's eyes fluttered open and she stared back at Erik with the same appalling look, but it was not he who she was appalled at, it was herself for being so foolish and cruel while she had been in one of the most sensual experiences of her life.

A tear ran from the corner of her eye as she observed how hurt Erik looked. "I... I'm so sorry. I-I-I--"

Rather than lashing out, Erik pulled Christine to him and petted her hair softly. "We're going to have to have a long talk..."


	7. Chapter 7

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Raoul sat in the back of his own carriage rather than the medical carriage. The doctor had confirmed that he had done all he could and there was nothing more than to let it heal on its own so he could now go home and rest.

His head with its mangled face in his hands, he sobbed to himself, then sniffed and looked up through the carriage window. He saw that the fire was almost under control. It would be out shortly if the fire workers continued at the pace they were working at. Unfortunately, all hope of returning to the Opera Populaire was lost for Paris. There was no recovery for the damage that had been wreaked upon the architecture. Not even all of Raoul's money could fix this one. And that was quite a shock for Raoul considering all the money he held. He had always gotten everything he'd ever wanted. But times changed and now he saw that the opera would never get back to its original state no matter what.

Raoul's carriage driver suddenly appeared in the window opening, looking at Raoul. Quickly, he covered his hands over his face to shield it from the driver's view.

"Err.. Vicomte... I heard what happened to your face. I am truly sorry."

Raoul stared at the driver with narrowed eyes through the gaps between his fingers. "Just get me out of here," he hissed.

"Yes, Monsieur," he said and disappeared from the window opening. He climbed aboard the driving seat and took the horse reigns into his hands, then with one quick motion, yanked them with a yell and the horses started up.

Relieved that they would be leaving the horrible sight, Raoul relaxed and became less tense. His hands slowly moved away from his face and he leaned back against the plush seat of the carriage, feeling the steady movement of the wheels beneath him.

"Now... to plot my revenge..." Raoul said to himself. He closed his eyes, trying to think of how he would be able to create havoc for the damned Phantom. Though, to Raoul's dismay, he realized that he was not now, nor ever had been one to be malevolent towards another intentionally. He opened his eyes and looked out the window at the moving scenery outside of the carriage.

They were moving down the road which passed by the river. Raoul looked at the frozen ice of the waters, admiring the elegance and observing how different a river looked in the wintertime from what it normally looked like in the summertime. The carriage continued moving, passing the river further. Raoul noted that there were several ice fishing cabins on the ice. One particular cabin seemed to catch his eye, though. There looked to be a figure sprawled out against the ice with some kind of rope trailing out from under him.

Raoul furrowed the brow on his disfigured face and sucked in a deep breath of air. Then, as if it were a dream, he pushed the carriage's door open while it was still in motion and jumped out of the moving vehicle.

The driver noticed motion in the corner of his eye and turned his head around to see the carriage's door wide open, flapping in the wind, and Raoul rolling down the edge of the iced lake. The driver took on an aghast look and grabbed his head in shock and confusion. "Vicomte?" He called helplessly.

Raoul ignored the driver's call and gained control. He stopped rolling and stood up, though still dizzy from his tumble. He stepped forth cautiously, worried he was going to fall over, but did not and had regained his balance. He began to run on the icy lake, towards the peculiar figure outside the cabin, occasionally slipping on the icy surface and regaining his footing.

The wind blew his long hair around his head and the cold winter breeze across the fresh, open wounds on his face stung, but he paid it no attention. As he reached the figure, he studied it and saw that it was a man with a noose around his neck. Clearly, with the man's chest heaving up and down, he was not dead. Just unconscious. But the scene was all too familiar. A noose was the sign of one person and one person alone.

"The Phantom." Raoul said angrily to the chilled winter air.

He stepped past the man, not really caring about him anymore, and to the cabin. He approached the doorway and stared at the wooden paneling smugly. Should he knock? Should he just go in? She he break the door down? Raoul decided he would just break the door down and save himself the trouble of having to explain himself from outside the door. Plus... he would have the element of surprise! And that was the most important element of all.

He backed away from the door a few feet and counted. "1... 2... 3..." Then he began running, mustering up all of his strength and force so he could use them against the door. His shoulder suddenly made contact with the wood and he felt a slight pain as he pushed as hard as he could and the door began caving in under the pressure he had applied.

"I'm coming for you, Phantom!" Raoul yelled, enraged with fury and full of adrenaline. He pulled the broken door from the frame and it came out easily enough under his grip. He tossed it aside and looked up, knowing he'd see the Phantom and perhaps Christine.

But when he looked ahead, the cabin was empty. Raoul found himself confused. He stepped into the doorway, looking all around for any sign whatsoever of the Phantom's presence, but clearly there was no one there.

"Dammit!" Raoul yelled in frustration, his chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline rush. His eyes moved to the iced floor and skimmed the surface. All at once, they stopped on an irregularity. His lips narrowed together so tightly they began to turn white. He bent down, picked it up and stared at it in his hand for a long time until he felt a tightness in his chest that could be perceived as heartache.

He ran a hand over a delicate piece of material he had found. There was no doubt about it; it was Christine's. Part of her dress.

"What have you done to her, you bastard!" Raoul yelled up at the ceiling of the cabin in a rage. His heart was pounding so quickly. He rubbed the piece of material between his fingers one last time and lifted it to his nose. He took in a deep breath from the cloth, the fragrance emitted filled up his senses with Christine and in that moment a picture of the lovely Miss Daae formed in his mind. She was so beautiful. Why would she want to be with someone so disgusting as the Phantom?

"Why would she want to be with someone so disgusting as me?" He asked, sadly, realizing that he had been lowered to the level of deformity that the Phantom held and now they shared the same quality. But even though they shared the same appearance, they did not share the same state of mind; an advantage for Raoul by far.

"You think you've escaped me, Phantom? Think again! Raoul de Chagny never gives up. _Never_."


	8. Chapter 8

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8

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Christine struggled with her broken dress. With the piece the Phantom had torn off being gone, the material kept slipping down. Finally, after seeing it was useless to keep trying, she gave up and wrapped the cape tighter around her body to prevent the cold from attacking.

She and the Phantom walked along a path cut out in the woods, not having the slightest clue of their pursuer, Raoul, who was proclaiming his hate for the Phantom at the very same moment in the cabin they had just been inside some minutes before. They had decided to leave after a mutual decision that they were not safe there and needed to find somewhere else to reside until they figured out what was really going to happen.

Christine suggested that they should flee through the woods so that no one would see them as they would if they were to walk along in clear view. Erik agreed and then they left. Now they were wandering through the cutout in the trees without much idea of where they were headed.

Raoul had left the ice cabin and taken the Phantom's noose from the unconscious man's throat. It hung loosely in one hand as he walked away from the cabin in pursuit of Erik and Christine whom he decided must have gone off through the woods.

The woods were silent. There were no animals scurrying, birds chirping or trees swaying in the wind. The only sound was the that of Erik and Christine's footsteps crunching in the snowy earth.

"Someone who cares," The Phantom sang, breaking the silence.

"Without you I'd be scared," Christine replied.

"Broke through the chains and now we're free to live life as we want it to be!" They proclaimed in unison.

"But the chains are still unbroken," said Phantom.

"And living life is not yet free," Replied Christine.

"We must try to survive so then they can see..." In unison.

Phantom, "You care."

Christine, "You're there."

Both, "And one day we'll be free!"

When their voices stopped, the forest returned to its normal state of silence, as though there had never been a word said.

As Raoul walked, he had heard the faintest noise coming from within the forest when they had sung. Even with such a faint sound, though, he knew it was them. He gritted his teeth and quickened his pace.

The Phantom and Christine came to a fork in the path suddenly and had to decide which of four different paths they would take. Erik looked at Christine, trying to see if she had any idea which path they should choose. She replied by giving him a look of indifference. Therefore it was up to him to decide.

After a quick moment's thought, he began towards the path to the most right, Christine going along with the decision without hesitation. The new path they had taken was notably darker than the original path they had walked. The trees on this path seemed larger and their branches reached out at the path, resembling bony fingers. The trunks of the trees were thick, they had curls and were gnarled in an ugly fashion. The atmosphere changed as well. A fog began crawling up from the snow ahead, enveloping them in a thick mist of smoke. It hindered their vision, they could no longer see where they were going. It also became difficult to breath in the fog and Christine started coughing.

Erik patted her on the back, soothingly, trying to stop her coughing. Shortly, her coughing began to tide over, but it was still fairly difficult for both of them to intake air. They had presumed that it would eventually clear up, but there was no such luck. The forest only seemed to grow darker and colder, the fog thicker, the trees uglier and scarier. The tree branches reached out at them as they passed, as though they were grabbing at them like the bony hands they resembled.

Raoul came to the fork in the path and stopped immediately. At first seeing the splitting, he was confused. But then the confusion grew to disgruntlement, for he had to choose the correct path in order to continue following them. If he made one wrong move, he would lose them. He sucked in a big breath of air and held it in as he surveyed each turnoff. Finally he let out his breath, turned to the outermost path on the left and started on it.

He set foot on the path and stopped to listen to the silent forest. He cocked his head at an angle and stood like that for a moment before shaking it. He just had the wrong feeling about the path. He could sense that it was not the one Erik and Christine had taken.

Raoul turned back to the main path and decided to go with the path next to the one he had tried, the innermost left path. He started on it and did not stop this time. He could not sense the feeling he had about it being the incorrect path like on the previous one-- But he could not sense a feeling telling him that it was the correct path either. He decided that it was a good thing. Unfortunately for Raoul, it really wasn't as good of a thing as he had presumed. But for Erik and Christine it was.

The fog surrounding Erik and Christine became so thick they could not even see eachother. Christine groped for Erik blindly in the white mist, just barely able to see her own hands. But all she felt was empty air. Suddenly she felt a hand wrap around her waist from behind and she jumped in fear. As she looked to the side to see who it was, she saw the vague outline of Erik next to her and calmed down.

The conditions of the forest only seemed to be growing worse and Christine was weary and frightened. She sniffed back a few tears and looked at Erik's silhouette next to her. "Erik," She said, her voice breaking the silence of the forest. "Must we really walk this path?"

"Are you not enjoying it?" He asked, not so much as turning his head away from the path to look at her. He was focused.

"Enjoying it! Are _you_ enjoying it?"

"I like the feeling of being shrouded in the unknown. But I suppose, if it's really bothering you we don't have to."

"Yes. I would appreciate that very much."

Erik sighed and began pulling her off to the side where the gnarled trees lay with their pointy branches. The fog was not as strong there and Christine could see that they were going to go off the path and through the woods instead. She had not wanted to do that.

"I thought we might turn back and try one of those other paths rather than cutting through the forest," She said.

"This way is more secluded."

Christine opened her mouth to reply, then decided there was no point in trying and closed her mouth again. The branches poked out at them from every angle, trying to grab and wound. The only benefit of their change in directions was that the fog was starting to clear up and she could see perfectly once more-- Which may not have been a good thing. She could see all the gnarled trees which protruded from the ground at odd angles with their intimidating branches which got in your face, making you have to push them out of your way. She could see the way the snow under their feet glowed with a certain deathly grayish look that made you want to be sick. She could see the way the forest was mildly illuminated by the crooked cracks between the trees which let in only the smallest amount of light. The light allowed took on a hellish look because of the odd shape of the cracks which let it in. Other than that there was no other light and the forest was very dark.

Erik pushed branches out of their way with mild difficulty, taking certain caution as to not let any of them touch his beloved Christine. But it only took one fault to contradict his successful actions; as Christine passed along by one of the trees, her foot caught on an unsightly stump and she stumbled forward, falling out of Erik's grasp and rubbing herself against one of the bony hand-like branches. All at once, there was a large gash spreading up the side of her leg. She fell to her knees on the snow covered ground in pain and cried out.

Raoul walked along the path he had chosen, (which in no way resembled the frightening path Erik and Christine had taken in the slightest) searching for any sign he could that would lead him to their whereabouts. All of a sudden a faint scream sounded from somewhere off in the forest. Raoul stopped, realizing it had been female and most likely Christine's.

"You monster!" Raoul called out into the forest in a fury.

Erik's heart pounded with anxiety; his poor Christine was injured. He hurriedly bent down and lifted her into his arms. All of a sudden he heard a male scream in the distance and he froze. Erik swallowed and his eyes trailed over to where Christine had fallen. The snow was soaked crimson with blood.

His heart beat faster and he quickly walked through the trees, carrying Christine, until he saw a large truffle and stopped in front of it. He sat her on the truffle gently and backed away. Her head was turned down and her body shivered all over with fright.

He extended a hand and tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears poured down her reddened cheeks to no end. Such a sad sight crumbled his heart. He bent down to begin examining her wounds. Before beginning, he saw that her dress had a large rip where it had caught onto the stump. He slowly ran it up her shapely legs and stopped when it reached her thigh. The material sat there loosely, exposing her to the outdoor cold. Erik leaned in closer and placed a gentle hand on the knee of her right leg, the other at the ankle. He turned the leg slowly so he could see it better, careful not to move it too quickly so it would hurt her.

Christine's entire stocking was covered in blood from the wound and shredded from the impact with the stump, preventing him from being able to examine it properly. He took in a deep breath and let go of the leg. He removed her shoes, then placed his hands at top of her stocking, where the garters ended and unclasped both stockings from their holding spots. Then he removed the stocking from the uninjured leg and placed it on the ground next to him. He began repeating the process with the other stocking, but had to go slower because he didn't want to hurt her when removing it.

He slipped the bloody and torn stocking down her wounded leg with care and placed it down on top of the other stocking. Then he returned to examining the gash. It was quite deep. And long. It ranged from just below the knee until the ankle and was on the side of the leg. He supposed that they should clean it somehow, but based on where they were at the moment, there weren't many resources to turn to.

Erik looked up at Christine's tear-soaked face and pushed a lock of hair that hung in the way to the side. He rubbed his hand over her cheek. "Everything will be fine," he said in almost a whisper, then removed his hand. More tears flowed from the wells of her eyes.

He pondered for a moment, then at last came to a conclusion. "We have to stop the bleeding."

Christine sniffed in reply. Erik pulled his shirt tails from being tucked in his pants to not and began ripping off an average sized length of cloth. He bent forward and wrapped the makeshift bandage tightly just below her knee. Instantly the white cloth began soaking red with blood. Erik ripped another piece from the bottom of his shirt and applied it below the previous bandage, so it would cover another section of the long cut. It filled with blood quickly as well.

He duplicated the procedure until he was sure that the bleeding would relinquish. By then, his shirt was down to only some scraps on his body. Christine's tears had subsided as she had watched Erik's forfeit of apparel. She had thought it to be so sweet that he had given up the own shirt off his back. Even though she was in pain, he had made her forget of it with his act of kindness.

She watched as his chest moved up and down steadily while he breathed, covered by not much garment. She noticed the fine indentations on his chest, how carefully his features were sculpted. The way the soft crooked light shining down through the cutouts in the treetops accented his moderately muscular physique made her feel a certain warmness in the pit of her stomach. She saw the hot air he breathed from out of his lips in the cold winter air and at that moment she knew that she wanted to feel him breath that air into her. That sweet, soft air. She longed to hear that air being used to speak her name.

Erik saw Christine's gaze on him and felt strong feelings brewing inside for her as she was feeling for him right now. But these feelings were not new to Erik. He had always felt that way about Christine. He sighed and raised to his feet. "Christine," he said softly, as though reading her thoughts.

She blinked several times at him and felt her heart begin to race ahead with him saying her name. "Erik," She replied. A shiver ran down Erik's spine, hearing her angelic voice utter his own name.

Christine slid down from the truffle and onto her feet in front of Erik, forgetting of her injury, wanting to thank him for helping her, wanting to deliver a kiss to her knight in shining armor who had come to her rescue. Her feet gave away from under her and she fell into his arms. He scooped her up and began carrying her away from the truffle and through the forest again.

"Aren't you cold? Would you like your cape back?" Christine asked.

"No. You need it more than I do. I'm fine."

Christine reached out a finger to his chest and began tracing along the indentations and lines with it. She laughed to herself. "You're a very beautiful man, you know."

"No. I don't know. And you don't either. Clearly you're delusional."

Christine wrapped her arms around his neck and raised her head to kiss his chin. She did it repetitively, much like how he had done to her in the ice fishing cabin. Only now, they were moving and had no time for any of that.

She laughed and kissed his chin. "Your chin makes my lips tickle," she said, laughed and kissed him again.

"Christine, I think you've lost too much blood."

"Ohhh, say my name again, Erik," She said, sounding aroused, and threw her head back. "Lost too much blood? I have more than enough blood to last me..." She passed out in his arms and Erik worried about her condition, yet became contented as it would be easier to go through the forest now.


	9. Chapter 9

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9

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A weak hand raised to Christine's temple. What was that smell? And that horrid dripping noise? Why did her head feel like it had just been trampled on by a thousand elephants? And why oh why did her entire back feel damp? Her eyes fluttered open slowly to see a handsome figure brooding over her. The vision blurred and danced, multiplied and swayed in front of her eyes as they adjusted.

"Erik?" Christine asked in a pained whisper. She blinked several times and ran her hand along the side of her head.

"Shhh..." Erik hushed, taking the hand that rubbed her head in his own. He massaged it with his fingers.

Christine felt an unpleasant coppery taste in her mouth and swallowed, hoping to rid of it. But it was still there even after she did so. Her eyes had adjusted to their surroundings now and from where she was lying down all she could perceive was that it was quite dark wherever they were. There was a single lit torch mounted on the wall. Its light burned brightly in contrast to the darkness of the room. She turned her gaze back on Erik. "Where... where are we?" She managed to get out.

Erik smiled at her and gave her hand a little squeeze. He brushed her hair back with his free hand affectionately, yet did not try to answer her.

"Erik... please tell me..." She croaked.

"You are truly breathtaking under this light, my beautiful angel."

Christine felt the pain in her head grow stronger and winced. She opened her mouth to ask again, but suddenly she heard an animal-like twitter very nearby. With all of her energy, she turned her head to where the sound had come from and saw the most dreadful beast of a rat she had ever seen in her life only inches from her face. She let out a high pitched scream, which echoed, and bolted upright. Erik sighed.

"Are we in the... the sewers?" Christine asked frantically, now not feeling so weak anymore.

Erik stood and walked over to the mounted torch on the wall. He looked at it burn for a moment then turned away and began pacing through the cesspool's shallow water. The foul liquids splashed under his feet and made the most disgusting squishing noise as he passed through. "Yes." He said reluctantly, continuing to pace.

"But why?"

"Because there is nowhere else to go," He said sternly, halting his pacing and staring at her.

"But... but..." Christine began, then saw a rat (perhaps the same one) skitter by, making its horrible little noises. She cringed and jerked away from it, pulling her legs up to her chest in a childlike position, forgetful of her leg injury. She cried out in pain as her wrapped leg began burning due to her coarse contact.

Erik rushed over to her quickly as the tears began streaming from her eyes. He held her head against his bared chest, caressing her shoulder. "I'm cold and frightened," She wept, her cold tears on his hot chest. "I want out of here. Why can't people just accept you as you are so you can live a normal life?"

He sighed and stroked her hair. "I've asked that question to myself more than enough times to know the answer: Change is infeasible to society."

"Can't we can try?"

"Change is infeasible and trying is futile, my dear. Accept it as I've come to do so and it will be easier to get along with."

"But you're such a wonderful man. Surely there must be a way."

"Christine. Might I ask you... why did you decide to come along with me?"

"You've already asked and I've already told you: you are a beautiful man and an amazing tutor."

"Yes. But _really_. Tell me _really _why you'd give up so much... fame, money, a caring man... just to be down in a sewer with rats and a singing monster. Child, do you not realize how much you've wagered?"

"I realize my wager. But the profit of the bet is more valuable than any other reward could ever be." Her tears began to dry as she looked up into his eyes. "You need me. And I need you." She pulled out of his grasp and got to her feet only to topple forward. He got up quickly to catch her before she fell in the waste. "And together we will do..." She sang.

"What lucky few people chance to."

"So magical, so new."

"Together as one, a bond for two."

"You need me."

"And I need you."

They kissed and when it was over, Christine felt much better than she had previously. A sewer was not so bad. She could get used to it... or maybe not. "Erik, do you think there could be any likelihood that we might leave this place?"

"I see that as a possibility."

Christine smiled at him. "So. What do you think Raoul's doing right now?" She asked. The Phantom let out a growl. "Just kidding," She said with a laugh. "But tell me, how was I when we were leaving the woods? I don't quite remember much of anything from then."

"You smothered me erotically, exhibited lewd behavior, then passed out," Erik stated dryly.

Christine stared at him wide-eyed for a moment then let out a wave of laughter. "Very good one. For an instant you almost had me believing that!"

Erik faked a smile and laughed along with her. "Yes. Very good one, indeed." He turned away and rolled his eyes, then returned to Christine and laughed fraudulently once more with her. Their laughs penetrated the walls of the sewer, bouncing off and echoing with a tinny sound. They came together and embraced in the pits of the disposal system all the while unaware of their uninvited spectator.

Raoul breathed in and out heavily as he looked down upon his Christine embracing the horrific Phantom of the opera. His face contorted into a devilish sneer as he observed, his body scrunched in an odd fashion to bend down in front of the sewer opening, his distorted face pressed up against the cold steel of the metal bars of the grate, his body blocking off the light normally allowed into through the grate's bars and casting a shadow over the area instead.

Christine noticed the lack of light and the shadow and turned her head up to the grate to look for the cause, only when she regarded the grate whatever that had been there had disappeared. She decided it was nothing and squeezed Erik closer to her body.


	10. Chapter 10

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10

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As nightfall came down on Paris Christine and Erik slept against a less filthy area of the sewer. Christine had fallen asleep in the comfort of Erik's arms and they lay together backed on the wall limply.

When Erik opened his eyes hours later, he found himself to be in the sewers rather than his beloved lair which he had grown so accustomed to all these years. He turned his head to the side and noticed that the torch which had once been alight had now extinguished. He also duly noted that the nighttime was gone and daylight was shining in through the grate. He let out a long sigh, realizing once more that his home was all gone. But at least he had Christine now... Oh, how he loved Christine. As he ran his fingers through her hair he thought of how one girl could mean more to him than anything else in the world could ever mean. If his lair was all he had to sacrifice to earn her love, then he was not the slightest bit upset in the least.

Christine then opened her eyes to find herself staring into Erik's masked face. She came to the same revelation as he had moments ago, that her choice made yesterday had changed her life for good. She peeled herself away from him and stood, a look of agony coming over her face as she put her weight on her injured leg. She quickly placed the weight on the other leg and limped away through the murky waters, Erik watching as she did so but not moving. She stopped in the center and looked all around at her surroundings. Finally, without looking back to Erik but rather up at the grate at the top of the sewer which cast light from the outside on her face causing lines of shadowing on her fair complexion due to the bars on the grate, she croaked, "It smells in here."

Erik raised from the wall he been backed against and approached Christine. "I take it you would like to leave now." He said dryly. She looked at him, the shadows from the light through the grate against her face dancing around, and replied by giving him an aggravated look. He took her arm in his and began to led her down through the sewers in the way he had come the previous day. "You really shouldn't be walking on that leg," he told her. "I have to renew the bandaging."

She did not reply, only continued to let him lead her while maintaining silence. Her leg was not nearly as sore as it had been the other day. She hadn't been able to walk on it before and now she could. She presumed that it must have healed dramatically over the night.

They arrived at a ladder built into the side of the wall. It was made of a metal that Christine could not recognize that had rusted increasingly over its time spent in the depths of the sewage system. Its rungs were thin, cold, hard bars that started at half of the wall's length and ascended upwards some feet, ending at a grate larger than that which had occupied the area they had been in before. She could know it was larger, as more light shined through its bars and fell into her eyes, temporarily blinding her and then leaving a ghost-like apparition of itself in the centers of her vision. She blinked several times, it went away, and she turned her gaze to Erik.

"How will I climb this?" She asked, gesturing to her wounded leg. She knew it had healed somewhat over the night, but not enough so that she could climb this ladder. She didn't think she could pull herself up that far to even reach the ladder's start, let alone climb the whole rusted thing.

Now it was Erik's turn to maintain his silence and reply only in gesture. He wrapped an arm around her waist tightly, such a shock to her a gasp escaped her lips, then he manoeuvered her into his arms and raised her upwards to the start of the ladder's rungs. She gripped onto a bar with a strong grasp and her feet scrambled wildly under her, searching blindly for the bottom wrung to support her. Finally her feet fell into place against the bottom wrung and she felt Erik's hands slowly drift away from her body.

"Hold on tight," Erik instructed, then heaved himself into the air and grabbed onto the bottom wrung where her feet stood. With all his strength, he pulled his weight up to the ladder and strung his legs onto the bar. He shifted his hands to higher bars and then pulled himself up again so he could stand on the ladder along with Christine. The ladder had clearly not been built for two, as she was smothered from behind by his crushing weight pushing against her back and making her to be pressed against the ladder's rungs in front of her. The cold metal, hard against her chest and waist began hindering her breathing patterns, causing her breaths to come out short and with much pain.

Erik breathed in and out deeply, trying to gather his energy once more so he would not falter when climbing the rest of the way. He took in one last breath, then let a hand come away from its holding on a bar and reached through the bars to wrap around Christine's waist once again. She let out a shortened gasp and then Erik began to climb upward.

"Let go of the bars," He said, noticing she was still attached to them.

She had not even realized that she had not let go of the rung she had held onto as Erik began his ascend. She let go in one prompt motion, letting her arms go limp at her sides and let Erik take her upwards, away from the dank pits of the sewers and to the fresh outside world that she longed to be in once again.

Erik moved swiftly up the bars until he came to the top where the grate sat, impeding their exit. "Push the grate up," He breathed into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She did as was asked, raising a weak arm above her head and placing her hand against the cold metal. She pushed upwards and the grate began to slowly unhinge from its holding, casting stronger light in through the breaching cavity. Finally she felt the grate slide out from her grip and she knew their passage was no longer blocked. Erik continued up the remaining rungs of the ladder, then stopped and boosted Christine upwards, through the hole. She struggled through the opening, feeling at great loss of energy, then crawled out along the road and waited for Erik to come out.

He pulled himself out and shut the grate behind him. He knelt down next to Christine on the road and turned her head up to his, studying the poor color of her face. She was not doing well. He kissed her on the forehead and stroked the underneath of her chin with his hand. "We're out now. It will be okay."

Christine let out a soft moan, feeling as though someone had just removed all of her bones and now she was as limp as jelly. She offered Erik a pained smile, not mad at him anymore for having brought her down into the sewers because she knew that there was no where else to go.

"Come on, now," He said as he helped her up and propped her upright on her own two feet. He did not remove a hand from her arm though, as he feared that if he did she would lose her balance and fall down as she had on previous occasions. "This is a public street we're on. It's not safe here."

Christine let him lead her away behind some nearby snow filled bushes that lined the road. As they walked, she looked at him and asked, "How did you get me in there? It was hard enough getting out with my aide. But without?"

Erik took on a look of farcical bewilderment. "You know... actually it was easier."


	11. Chapter 11

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11

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Raoul watched them squeeze through the bushes and disappear from his seat in a restaurant across the road. He adjusted his eyepeice and squinted through it once more, trying to inspect the bushes for any further sign of their appearance.

"More tea, Vicomte?" a waiter asked from behind. The Vicomte had not heard him, though. He was deep in thought. The waiter nudged Raoul on the arm. "More tea?" He repeated as Raoul looked at him hastily.

"Yes. Another one will be fine. Now go away and don't bother me anymore. I'm very busy."

"Yes, Vicomte," The waiter said with indifference, re-filled Raoul's teacup with liquid and disappeared.

Raoul placed a finger in the teacup's tiny handle and lifted the porcelain to his lips. As he sipped, with the free hand he lifted the eyepeice to his face once more and surveyed the bushes. He spotted some color moving behind them and a smile came over his disfigured face. He began to laugh steadily and booming to himself.

"Ha ha ha ha ha! I've got you now!"

He paused to sip his tea, then resumed laughing.

"Where are we to go?" Erik asked Christine, leading her along the bushes.

She shrugged at him and was about to say that she didn't know when an idea popped into her head suddenly. "We could go by father's old cabin."

"Your father had a cabin? Around here?"

"Yes. A very nice one, indeed. When I was a child I used to play there with Ra-- by myself."

Erik cast her a glance of disapproval, then replied, "Alright. Then lead the way, my angel."

They trekked all around the Paris roads, sure to stay hidden amongst various shrubs and trees along the way. Feeling rather cold from the winter weathers against his bare upper body, Erik was in search of a covering to shield him from the airs. Passing along the bushes, looking through the limited amount of viewing through their spaces, Erik noticed a house which had a clothes line spanning from the house's side to a large tree. He stopped walking, Christine stopping as well and wondering what he was up to, and peered through the shrubbery at the clothes line. He eyed the various garments hung up on the wire, looking to see if any were suitable to his liking, then saw several white shirts next to eachother which resembled something he could see himself wearing and his dilemma was solved. He turned around to Christine and said, "Stay here. I'll be back." And with that, he squeezed himself through the bushes and small trees, making sure he would not scratch himself along their spiky leaves and branches, and crossed over to the house.

Christine watched from a distance, still unsure of what he was doing, as he hid behind the large tree on which the clothes line was attached. He disappeared from her vision and her heart began to pound at a quicker rate until a moment later she saw a hand reach out from behind the tree and grab a garment from the clothing wire. She realized that she was a fool to have thought, even for a brief second, that he was going to leave her. He was simply in search of a concealment-- Not that he really needed to hide such a superb build. To Christine, it was perfectly fine if he wanted to roam about disrobed. She liked the way he looked. But she decided that it would probably be best it he covered up because it was dreadfully cold and even with his cape she was still shivering, therefore he was probably colder.

Lost in her thoughts, when Erik appeared in front of her sporting a new shirt she had not seen him come back and was a bit startled. "Is my new selection of apparel to your liking?" He asked, smiling at her.

"Honestly? I think it makes you look fat."

Erik's jaw dropped. "I'm just kidding. I like it. It really suits you," She assured.

He closed his mouth and took on a look of bafflement. They continued to walk along the bush-lined way.

Once as they walked, a child saw them through a cutout in the trees and began to cry. Erik shushed the wailing child, hoping he would not attract attention to them. They rushed past the child just as its father came to gather it. "What's wrong?" The father asked the child.

The child simply pointed to the trees and began to cry again. The father looked at the trees and saw the receding figures of Erik and Christine escaping off into the distance. With a furrowed brow, he scooped the child up into his arms and carried him off to the house in which they lived in so he could comfort him more effectively.

"It's just around here," Christine said, recognizing the area she had spent much of her childhood in, vaguely. They crossed over to a group of bushes, then cut through a large grassy lot. Christine stopped suddenly, Erik following suit. She extended a finger and pointed across the lot to a large wooden cabin that sat on the snow covered ground. It was a picturesque scene, like something you would see in a modern painting.

"This is it?" Erik asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes. It's been abandoned for years. Well, at least ever since my father..." She broke off, tears beginning in her eyes.

Erik squeezed her arm in reassurance, then they both began to the cabin. There was a small shed to the side of the cabin and behind it grew a large oak tree from the ground. A small wooden swing was attached to one of the oak's branches. Christine broke free from Erik's grasp and with a waning balance, she approached the swing. "Oh, it's still here after all these years," She exclaimed with much emotion in her voice. She turned around to face Erik and placed herself on the swing's seat.

Erik watched her from where he stood some feet away, delighted to see her so happy. He could see that she was re-connecting with her past and childhood, something he would not like to ever do himself, but it was wonderful for her to have the experience of her own.

She pushed herself slowly on the swing, moving back and forth. "I used to play on this swing all the time. My father... he would push me all summer whenever he wasn't busy." A smile came over her face, seeing Erik observing her. Then she began to laugh and looked down at her feet in embarrassment. "We... we had this little byword amongst ourselves about it. It was so dumb... he used to say, 'How many pushes do you think it will take to get you over the branch?' And I'd reply, 'It depends on how much breakfast I've had this morning'." She laughed, sharing the old story, then her laughter turned into tears, realizing her father would never ask her that stupid question again.

Erik rushed to her side and placed a comforting hand over her arm. She stood up from the swing and allowed Erik to lead her in the direction of the cabin. Reaching the doorway, they were stopped by several boards nailed over the passage, blocking their entry. Erik raised his hands to the boards and began shaking one out of its dwelling until it finally came loose in his hands. He threw it off to the side and began to work the rest of the boards. Soon, there was nothing blocking the doorway except the door. Erik pushed his weight on the door and surprisingly it was unlocked. They walked through the threshold and set foot into the old establishment. Christine took a moment to observe the insides of the cabin, noting all the changes that had occurred over the years. It still appeared to be relatively in sameness as it had been the last time she had been inside, though everything was aged, broken, moved around or missing now.

She stumbled across the hardwood paneled flooring, over to a fireplace and its mantle. Once reaching the mantle, she reached up and grabbed a large picture frame from its resting. She looked at the picture for a moment, taking in its visual image, then turned around to Erik. She returned to him with the picture and held it out for him to take. He took it in his grip and placed it in his view.

The picture appeared to be of a young girl and a man who resembled her. There was no mistaking that it was a young Christine and a resembling father. He smiled at the picture, seeing how happy they looked together. He wished he could make her as happy as she had been in the picture, but knew that it would be impossible, for only one man could make her feel in such a way and he was gone now.

"You were a beautiful child, and your father a handsome man," Erik said in reference to the picture. "And you are still beautiful, my love," he added, handing the frame back to her carefully. She looked at him with glassy eyes and smiled weakly, then clutched the picture frame to her chest, embracing it as though it were really her father rather than just a memento of his being.

Christine let out a long sigh. "Oh, there's so many memories here." she said, looking all around the cabin. "I wish I could share them with you, but there are just too many. And if I tried, I may forget some and that would not be polite."

"Well. How about you just try what you can and if you miss any, so what?"

Christine smiled at him longingly. He knew how to make a woman feel special. "Alright, then. Come with me," She said, grasping his hand. With her other hand clutching the picture of her father to her chest, she led Erik through a hallway and into a room. At first glance, it was quite obvious that it was a child's room. A little girl's room.

"This is your room?" He asked, looking around at the pink walls. The paint was peeling badly and most of what was left of the furniture was in disarray but he could still perceive its essence.

"_Was_, yes. It's deteriorated, though."

There were lightened patches in square and rectangle shapes along the peeling walls. Clearly there had once been pictures over the areas.

"It's... lovely," Erik replied, seeing a spider crawl along the floor in front of his feet and disappear into a pile of dirty rags.

Christine tugged on Erik's sleeve, signaling for him to start moving again. She led them out of her room and further down the old hall, then she turned into a new room, Erik following.

She surveyed the room's innards, then let out a gasp as her eyes passed along one of the room's corners. She rushed forward, losing her balance and falling to her knees in the corner. Erik raised a brow and came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Christine placed the picture she held on the floor next to her and lowered her hands to something that lay in the corner. She picked it up and held it gently, stroking it with care. Tears began from the wells of her eyes. "It's father's violin," she said in a hushed whisper.

Erik's eyes went wide as he focused his vision on the item in her hands more carefully, now noticing that it indeed was a violin. It was in very bad shape, though, falling apart. There were large holes in its wooden framing, the neck was broken off and missing, the strings absent as well, but it was still her father's violin.

"This was father's practice room. I can't believe this was left here. I could've sworn it had been... buried with him," She said with difficulty, her voice cracking and hoarse. "I guess I was wrong."

She propped herself against the dirty floor on the flats of her hands and tried to stand. Her arms wobbling under the pressure of her body being lifted on their support, she made it halfway to her feet before her injured leg felt the pressure and slipped from beneath her. She came down hard on her back across the wood and issued a cry of pain from her lips.

In alarm, Erik bent to her side and patted her forehead gently. "You are not to exercise further pressure on the injury," he said, removing his hand from her head and moving it to the blood-stained skirts of her dress. He pushed them up and began to inspect his makeshift bandaging. "Just as I thought. I will need to change your bandages." He got to his feet, leaving Christine sprawled on the floor with her skirts raised, heading out of the room and to other areas of the cabin, some previously undiscovered.

At once he remembered the pile of dirty rags in Christine's childhood room and headed off to find the room again. After some brief moments of losing his way, he found the turnoff and entered the room with its peeling pink walls. With mild disgust, he reached down to the pile and took up a handful of rags. A rat stared up at him from the area he had just removed the rags from. Erik scoffed at the rat, then turned his back to the room and left, proceeding to his love, Christine.

He returned to her, rags in hand, and placed himself on the floor in front of her once again. He put the new rags down next to him and began removing the used bandaging, which had once been his shirt, from her wound with care. He put the used bandaging on the floor next to him, the opposite side of the new bandaging rags. The used bandages were damp and sticky with red blood. When all of the old bandaging was removed and her leg stood bare, he leaned in to examine the wound. It still looked terrible but the bleeding had ceased and that was a good sign. He took a rag from the pile and rubbed it against the side of his pants, ridding the rag of its dust and grime to the best of his abilities. Then he bent his hand forward and carefully placed it on her leg. He slowly moved it against the flesh, up and down, trying to clean off the excess blood with it. Christine expelled a deep hiss, enduring the pain she felt at the rag's friction against her cut. It took all of her strength to keep from screaming. She wished he would stop, yet knew it was for the best.

Finally, feeling as though it had lasted hours rather than some seconds, the rubbing against her leg stopped and she let out a long sigh of relief. One by one, Erik wiped off each rag and wrapped them around her hindrance until it was re-bandaged. Finishing, he let out a long breath and pulled her dress back over her legs, then raised to his feet and helped Christine up from off the floor.

"Make sure you are placing all of your weight on your good leg," he instructed, helping her to the doorway. As they proceeded down the hall, Christine stopped and turned around. "Father's violin. And my picture. Please go fetch them for me?"

"Of course. But you are to be seated before you fall down again," he replied, ushering her through the rest of the hallway until they reached the front of the cabin. There, he looked around the room for a chair or otherwise and spotted the remains of a sofa bench. The piece of furniture had clearly been a victim of vandalism; half the bench was burnt away to a black crisp and what was not burnt carried childish vulgarities inscribed upon its material. Erik sat her upon the sofa and walked away, off to redeem Christine's collectibles.

On his return, she saw him approach her seating area now with the prized memorabilia in hand. He placed the violin and picture in her lap and sat himself down next to her on the sofa. "Christine... don't you find this a bit odd?" He suddenly asked.

"Odd? I don't understand what you mean."

"The fact that this cabin is here and all of its items intact. Why are they not gone and the cabin sold? I find all of this very strange."

"I see. Well, if you perceive it from my point of view, it is not all that strange to me. After the... _passing_... it was too hard to seek proper elimination of the articles for a girl of the tender age I was. The easiest thing to do, both in my physical condition as well as my emotional condition was to bar the door and leave it all behind. I could never think of selling all of this," She explained, gesturing to the cabin's innards with her hands as she spoke.

"Yes. That is sensible. Why have you not paid a visit since the _passing_, though? Surely, you are old enough to go out unaccompanied by yourself now."

"For the same reasons. All these years I could not have bared setting foot in this dwelling, for the pain would be too great. I simply didn't have the heart."

"And suddenly you do?"

She placed a hand over Erik's, which sat on his lap. "Suddenly I do."

They gazed at eachother for a moment, holding deep affection in one another's eyes.

Christine began softly, slowly,"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning. Say you love me..." (Andrew Lloyd Webber)

Erik smiled. "You know I do." (ALW)

"Love me, that's all I ask of you,"(ALW) they sang as one, entwining their hands together.

"Christine, I love you."(ALW)

She stood from the seat, obviously forgetting her hindrance and not learning from all the previous times, fell backwards onto Erik's lap. He pushed forward, springing them both to their feet on the ground.

"Thanks for breaking my fall," She said with a laugh, clutching his arm. She turned her head away and peered through a dirty window to her left. "The sun's setting; it will soon be dark. We should find our lodgings. Oh, I know the perfect place. Come with me," She instructed, pulling him forward. He let her lead him through the cabin.

"Remember to keep the weight off of the bad leg."


	12. Chapter 12

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12

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Christine pushed against the front door with her shoulder in one tight jerk forward and it flew wide open. They stepped outside and she shut the door behind them.

"I thought we were to reside indoors," Erik asked, wondering what she was up to.

"Well, if it's gone then we'll go back inside."

"If _what_'s gone?"

They turned the corner in the fading sunlight and Christine squeezed onto Erik's arm. "It's still there!" She exclaimed happily.

"_What_ is still there?" Erik asked impatiently.

"I hope everything's still inside."

"Inside of _what_? What are you talking about?" He demanded, annoyed.

"The old storage shed," She said, pointing to a small shack near the tree swing. Apparently they had both failed to notice its presence when they first arrived. "There should be a bed in there. Or at least a mattress. Or something like that."

Erik nodded to himself. He would be sharing a bed or a mattress or something like that with his lovely Christine? The thought gave him tingly feelings all over. He felt as though he'd have to sit down soon, or he'd collapse with his delight.

Christine placed a small hand over the shack's rusted doorknob and turned with all of her capacity. The knob turned several centimeters and offered a small squeak, but did not give away. She let go of Erik's arm and placed both hands over the knob this time, twisting with doubled capacity. But the knob was uncooperative. She let out a sigh and turned to Erik. He sensed her frustration and placed an efficient hand over the rusted knob. He turned with ease and the door opened with a rusty shriek. He stepped aside and put out a hand to gesture that she should enter before him. Christine smiled and did as was proposed.

As her eyes were adjusting to the shack's darker illumination, she felt Erik behind her and then heard the door slam shut, encasing them in the small room. The only source of light was a window at the wall opposite the doorway, which provided barely enough light for her to even see much of her own hands in front of her. The sun was setting quickly and if they were to become familiar with the insides of the shack, they would have to work quicker.

Christine bent slowly to the floor, eying the piles of junk that stood amidst. There were boxes all around, containing various items she remembered vaguely storing years ago. A large crate sat upon a raised surface, items protruding from its top opening. She placed her hands on the crate's sides, picked it up and put it on the floor. She surveyed the raised surface more closely, squinting in the poor light, and realized that it was a cot. She leaned her hands against its top and pulled herself to her feet carefully before extending a hand and pointing at it. "Here it is," She said, removing Erik from his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

He had been leaning against the shack's thin wall, afraid he would lose his feet if he were to use them alone to support himself. He was so overcome by the moment and it was finally sinking into his head what had really happened; a revelation that Christine was with him now. She had chosen him willingly without any force. _Why? Why would she do that? _He wondered. Either way, however, it did not matter in the least. She was with him. And that was it. But one final question that he longed to have answered: did she want him as much as he wanted her right now?

He focused his vision on the cot. "I see," he said. An image of himself making love to Christine on the cot passed through his mind for a mere second and he broke into a cold sweat, ashamed of himself and worried that somehow she would look into his mind and see his forbidden daydreams.

He narrowed his eyes in concentration and stared at her long and hard, trying to figure out whether or not she had discovered his unholy imagery. Her lips moved in the formation of words but he did not pay attention. She threw him a puzzled glance and he swallowed hard.

"I said to come here and try it out," She repeated, annoyed that he was not paying attention. He seemed to be more focused on her than the sleeping arrangements.

This time he had heard her. He slowly peeled himself from the wall and approached the cot. It looked sturdy enough, even with its age. Perhaps even sturdy enough to carry out his wishes... the image of himself and Christine appeared once more and he flinched away from the cot, trying to rid it from his mind.

"What's gotten into you, Erik?" Christine asked, flustered by his sudden change in behavior. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Because I want you to be mine. Forever and always." He blurted out quickly, reaching out a hand and brushing the side of her face tenderly with it.

She was taken aback by the sudden change in subject. They had been discussing cots. How could it lead a discussion of the level of their association? "But I don't understand. I am already with you right now and hope to be forever and always."

"Christine, I want you. I need you. I need you right now... more... more than I have ever needed you before. I don't think I can control myself any longer. Say you'll have me."

She stared at him, speechless. He closed his index finger and thumb around her chin. As her mouth hung open in bewilderment and she had finally found the right words to say, it was too late to say them, for in that very moment her head was drawn in forward and her mouth no longer empty, but full of Erik. His soft, warm tongue moved about, somehow knowing how to work on every inch of her mouth as though he had traveled it thousands of times before. She place one frail hand on his shoulder and the other on his neck and began to return his affection, feeling somewhat guilty for him making her feel so much pleasure when she was not giving any in return.

Without second thoughts, Erik pushed her down onto the cot, hardly aware of his own strength, and climbed on top of her. He pinned her arms above her head, returned his mouth and tongue to hers, igniting a deep fire in the pits of her belly for his proximity. As well as her craving for his body, she felt a sharp pain in her torso which was not a pain of lust, but a pain from having been so brutally handled only seconds before. But she would be able to overlook it for the time being, as her feelings of eagerness seemed to outweigh her pain by a long shot.

Erik pulled himself from her mouth, leaving her with disappointing void. With a tug of a string, he removed the cape from her shoulders and it lay tucked underneath her body, attached to her neck no longer. He arched his back upwards and placed his lips on her neck, moving them along her sleek skin. She watched his head move, in sort of a warm trance. Then his head stopped as he reached the barrier of her dress and he turned his eyes to hers, as though embarrassed. She blinked at him several times, remaining silent. She was willing enough, it was up to him to make all decisions. He was in full control of her body.

He raised to his knees as stared down at her with uncertainty. She looked up at him, defenseless. Erik slowly brought his hands behind his head and untied the mask from his face, exposing the hideous flesh beneath. He brought his arms down and held the mask tightly in one hand, staring deep into Christine's eyes. It was one thing to offer yourself to someone and be willing, but another to offer yourself to someone truly exposed and still be as willing as you were when the exposition was shrouded.

Christine did not move a muscle. There was nothing wrong with his appearance, masked or unmasked and she didn't know why he had to belittle himself so constantly, always turning back to his hindrances and never looking at the remarkable talents which he possessed. She had no problem engaging with the deformity. But did he?

Finally breaking the stillness and silence, she raised a wavering hand to his shirt and unobstructed its opening by undoing each button in succession until it hung open loosely against his chest. She tugged on one of the sleeves and it slipped away from his shoulders and fell away, gliding down to the floor.

Knowing that her actions meant that she was still willing even if he was to be unmasked, he bent back down to her to continue in their passion play. Tentative fingers passed along the fabric of her dress, still uncertain as to whether or not they would be proceeding. Then, in a moment there were no more opportunities for turning back; Erik's hands had decided for him, slowly pulling her dress down to her waist, exposing her entire upper body. Her skin seemed to quiver under his touch as he placed a nervous, yet gentle hand on her chest. He ran both hands up and down along her waist and stomach. He had never felt something so soft before. He was feeling skin. He was feeling the skin of a _woman_.

The touch of his hands against her body made her breath come out in weak little spurts, her vision seemed to blur in a nirvana she had never before reached. His hands felt so right, as though they belonged there. They passed over her body, gently brushing her skin, making it tingle with pleasure. She felt a longing inside her that she had only felt once before and it had been when Erik had bandaged her foot in the woods and she saw him bare-chested for the first time. But that experience could not measure to what she was feeling within herself as of now. A new passion seemed to rise from deep inside and she developed the sudden urge to touch him. She longed to touch him as he was touching her, making him feel what she was feeling, stirring new sensations inside his body as he had done to her. Her hands seemed to ache, wanting to do just that. And before she knew it, she was. Her hands slowly moved over his tight chest, feeling his muscular physique, feeling a man as she had never felt one before. Her fingers barely grazed against his lower abdomen as they traveled lower towards the bulge that was unmistakable even in the low light. She felt herself touching it almost immediately and wanted to pull her hand back, ashamed, but then decided that it was what she was supposed to do.

Her hand over his hardness warmed with the heat that issued from deep within his body. She turned her head to glance upwards, into his dark eyes. He returned the gaze instantaneously. It was at that very moment that they realized what was to come next. They were both as ready and as willing as they supposed they could ever be.

Christine bit down on her lower lip as her hands passed over his manhood once again. She gently pressed her hand against him, causing a sharp breath to inhale from his lips. She placed her hands along either side of the waist of his pants and looked up at him once more. His eyes locked on hers and she held her breath as her hands lowered his pants.

The sight of him caught her by surprise, her breath becoming somewhat lodged inside her throat. She had never laid eyes upon the forbidden parts of the opposite sex and found them to be intriguing. Christine removed the remaining length of his trousers and they dropped from the cot and onto the floor, on top of his shirt.

Now it became his turn to free her of the remaining garments which hindered their passion. Erik passed his hands along her waist, moving them against her slowly, teasing her skin and leaving it covered in gooseflesh. His hands fell upon the skirts of her dress and he slowly pulled them down over her hips, past her legs (taking proper care not to disrupt her injury), past her feet until they did not cover. Her dress fell in front of the cot in a heap.

Both were no longer hindered by apparel; they were exposed to the gazes of one another. Erik lowered himself to Christine, planting his lips against the creamy flesh of her belly. He shrouded every inch of her with tender kisses, wanting the mood to be set properly. He had dreamed of this moment for so long and now that it was happening he wanted to carry through with it exactly as it had been carried through with so many times in his secret fantasies. Christine closed her eyes, unable to even move, the burning inside of her for Erik was so powerful.

At once, she felt Erik's lips upon her body cease and her eyes fluttered open. He sat up once again, staring down at her from his position. He placed his hands upon her hips and looked her in the eye. She stared him back in the eye, then felt her gaze begin drifting away and moving to the part of him that stood as hard and stiff as she had ever seen anything stand before. He was so big-- too big it seemed. She didn't know how he'd possibly be able to fit inside of her or how this would work. She didn't want him hurting himself.

Before she could think anymore thoughts about her capacity, he was gently parting her legs from eachother. He leaned forward and began inserting himself into her. There was a tightness inside of her that she could not explain and it felt as though she were about to explode. She felt his hardness glide further into her gorge and a deep, sharp pain caused her face to transform into a look of anguish. She regretted this now. All of it. She was in so much pain, she should never have allowed him.

A hushed breath escaped Erik's lips as he pushed deeper into his beloved Christine. She clutched onto the side of the cot, hoping to keep the screams which she wished to expel inside. When would this torture be over? She wondered, tightly shutting her eyes and using all of her concentration to keep her from screaming. Tears began at the corners of her shut eyes. Finally, as the pain dampened, she opened her eyes and let go of the cot, and realized that he was inside of her now. All of him. They were connected.

Erik leaned down to Christine once more and delivered her a long, passion-filled kiss. As he began pulling away, Christine pulled his head back and continued the kiss, wanting the moment to last forever. She cursed herself for ever regretting the decision to allow this. The pain was worth it, for now she was filled once again with the nirvana she had felt previously.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her an affectionate embrace before beginning to move inside of her. He placed his hands flat on the cot's surface, on either side of her and began to thrust forward, rocking back and forth inside of her. The next moment, she did not exactly know or understand what was starting to happen to her, but she was enjoying it. She felt her loins begin to burn with a fiery passion and her body leapt forward in almost a stutter. Erik began to move faster within her, pants escaping his lips and the hot air brushing against her cheeks and forehead.

Just then, she reached a higher plateau than before. Christine did not want the feeling to end, she arched her back upwards, trying to intake all of what was being given and then she felt herself raise to an even higher plateau of pleasure, almost twice as more fulfilling as the previous had been.

"Oh, Erik," She moaned, now not making the cruel mistake she had made before by thinking of Raoul. In all truth, she had not thought of him since they had arrived at the cabin. And after this experience she probably would never even think of him again. Her face contorted into a look of total concentration and pleasure and she arched herself further.

Erik felt himself tightening within Christine. Their experience would soon be over. It was both sad and pleasureful at the same time to him. He only hoped they could share the experience together once again in their lives. He took in a deep gasp as he felt himself reach a plateau of his own and then he lowered his mouth to Christine's ear. "Oh, Christine. I love you," He breathed into her ear, never before having meant something so much as he had right then.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before removing himself from her. As he left her, she felt a certain disappointment and void fill her heart. She'd have to have him again sometime, there was no doubt about it.

He stood from the cot and retrieved their clothing from the floor, placing Christine's dress on her lap and his clothing on the corner of the cot. He slipped into his pants swiftly and placed his shirt over his shoulders. As he began buttoning the shirt, Christine only had started raising from the cot. She was so sore from everything she could not even move. There was an unpleasant stickiness between her thighs that she rubbed off tiredly with her hand. She slowly slid into her dress, feeling so weary, so exhausted, so used.

Erik finished buttoning his shirt and turned around to Christine, barely able to see her in the dark state of the room. But he could tell that she was in a very frightful composition and did not like it one bit. Perhaps it had not been such a great idea to inflict such stress upon her while she was so weak. He only hoped he had not hurt her. "Are you feeling okay, my love?" He asked.

Christine nodded slowly to herself, unable to turn her head to look at Erik, for all of her muscles were too weak. "Yes. I'm... I'm just fine--" She coughed, interrupting her speech, then continued, "I'm... I..." She coughed again, a rough, painful sounding cough. She coughed and could not bring herself to stop.

"Christine?" Erik asked with much terror.

She coughed more and then by the sound, it was as though there was something lodged in her throat. She coughed and choked on it uncontrollably and then it dislodged itself and came spewing from her mouth and all over her dress and the floor. It was blood.

Erik's heart sunk in his chest and he felt as though he would spew blood as well, but didn't. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door as she continued to cough, sometimes blood escaping from her mouth and splattering over their clothing. He turned the door's knob quickly and shoved the door out of their way with a jerk of his shoulder. They emerged from the shack, eyes adjusting to the brightness that the moon cast upon the air.

He inhaled and exhaled quickly, his breath coming out in hot clouds in the cold winter air. Erik turned to the large tree which supported the old swing and set off in its direction, all the while Christine expelling her vital fluids orally. Reaching the tree, he set her down gently on the ground, propping her back against the tree's large trunk. On his knees next to her, he watched as the snow in front of her quickly became red.

"No, Christine. No," he said weakly, tears beginning in his eyes. He lowed his head, looking down at the red snow with grief.

As though sensing his worry, her coughing slowed down and stopped. She turned her head to him, the tendons in her neck feeling as though they would snap. He raised his head and looked at her. Blood ran all along her mouth and chin, dripped down her neck and chest and covered her dress and the snow in front of her. Her eyes looked as though they were made of glass. He raised a hand and wiped some blood from her chin, the tears growing in his eyes. "It was not supposed to be like this. We were together, Christine. We were together."

She stared at him with her glassy eyes and opened her mouth, "I love you, Erik," she said in no more than a whisper, then began coughing up her innards once more.

The tears shrouded his vision and poured down his face wildly. He took her in his arms and stoked her soft hair, hoping that this was all just some sort of horrible nightmare. He had not meant to hurt Christine. She had just lost so much blood... too much...

He hardly noticed when the coughing stopped along with Christine's heart. Her body went limp in his arms, but he refused to believe that she was gone. She was still alive in his mind and always would be.

Raoul walked along the shrub-lined pathway and came to the old Daae cabin. He saw footprints in the snow which lead up to the front door's entry. The footprints looked fresh, but deep inside he had strange feeling that he could not describe, telling him that they were not inside.

He saw another set of footprints leading to the back of the cabin and decided to investigate these before going inside. He walked along the line of footprints, careful not to ruin them. Following the footprints with his eyes, the foundation of a black dwelling suddenly came into view. He raised his eyes to look at what lay before him and saw the old storage shack, the door ajar. Raoul gulped and stepped inside the room. At the sight of the disheveled cot and the blood that soaked the floor in front of it, he covered his mouth in horror, trying with all of his might not to regurgitate.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and let it out, then turned around and stepped out of the shack, back onto the snowy ground. Tears came to his eyes, thinking of all the horrible things that the Phantom had probably done to Christine.

Sure that he would be able to hold his food down finally, Raoul removed his hand from over his mouth and stepped around the side of the shack. Not that far away he saw the large tree with the old swing that he and Christine used to play on when they were children.

As he began to approach the tree, several feet away from reaching it he saw the most horrible thing he'd even seen in his life: he saw the Phantom holding the lifeless body of Christine to his chest on the blood-covered snow, rocking her back and forth as he muttered some unintelligible garble through his tears.

Erik saw a shadow cast over himself and Christine and he raised his eyes to look at whoever the owner of the shadow happened to be. He saw Raoul, face deformed and deteriorated much like his own, tears streaming down his face without control, just as did his own.

Raoul fell to his knees in the snow, staring at Christine's blood-soaked body in Erik's arms. Then he turned his eyes to Erik and stared into the face of the man whom he dreaded so much. Only he was not overcome by feelings of dread any longer. He felt a remorse for the man, for he had loved Christine as well and now she was gone.

As they stared at one another's distorted faces in the moonlight, each man seemed to understand the other. But their understandings of eachother were not as prominent as the understanding that Christine Daae was dead.


End file.
